


Home Run

by GrapeJellyfish



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Baseball, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Sports, F/F, F/M, M/M, Stalking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-14
Updated: 2014-02-23
Packaged: 2018-01-12 08:21:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1184033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrapeJellyfish/pseuds/GrapeJellyfish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Baseball AU, in which Marco gets a big gay crush on the new pitcher</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so this fic was written for [this comic](http://kimmylikestodraw.tumblr.com/post/76499443412/did-you-say-baseball-au-because-i-swore-you) drawn by [this cutie](http://kimmylikestodraw.tumblr.com/) and i got a little carried away.  
> This has the screaming potential to be a multi chapter fic in which lots of baseball innuendos go horribly wrong. (I'd apologize but I'm really not sorry at all.)
> 
> In other words, the likely hood of me pursuing this AU in the future is pretty high, but I won't make any promises while Angel is currently happening. 
> 
> I'd like to hear feedback though, would anybody actually read this?
> 
> Any noodle, enjoy children!

Students lazily lounged about on the green fields, mingling between warm hues of orange and gold. Leaves rustling in the dregs of summer, still lingering. It seemed as if the warmth was desperately hanging on with brittle bony fingers, bracing itself, before winter’s frost would sweep it up in a violent flurry, cast away for another year to come. 

It was autumn, the leaves had been steadily changing over the last few weeks, and it brought about a soft nostalgia, always present during the changing of the seasons. 

The sky was clear, sun cascading over the patchy grass and red dirt as a group of students ran, shouting and laughing, over the dusty baseball diamond.  Each team cheered wildly as they made their rounds, diving into one another with each crack of the bat, piercing the still air.

Kicking at the cracked earth, Marco watched as his two teammates wrestled on the patchy grass, screaming and laughing as they rolled around, kicking dust into the air through muffled shouts as they attempted to wrestle the ball from the other’s grip.

“Are we really doing this?” Reiner was now walking towards the pair. Drawing closer, he effortlessly pulled Connie and Sasha apart with a simple tug. 

The pair were still in hysterics. At this point they had all grown used to Connie and Sasha’s antics. It seemed painfully obvious to everybody but the duo, that the constant wrestling matches were simply just an excuse to get close to one another. Their blatantly obvious crushes had seemingly gone by unnoticed to the other for somewhat of an impressive two years. 

“Okay, that’s enough.” An authoritative voice called drawing the team’s attention as their coach, Erwin Smith crossed the field, drawing up beside the struggling trio. 

“Oh hey coach.” Connie laughed, pushing once more on Reiner’s arm, as if the gesture would make a difference. 

Erwin’s mouth pulled into a thin line as his eyes flicked from Sasha to Connie, then to Reiner. “I take it you’ve been practicing.”

Sasha let out a breathy laugh as Reiner finally let go, stepping back to join Bertholt, who had somehow fabricated a few paces bend the group. “Something like that.”

Letting out a short hum, their coach turned his back and headed towards the batter’s box, the remainder of their team following close behind. 

Watching as his friends strode in towards the centre, Marco let out a shallow sigh. it had been three months since their last practice, and to be perfectly honest, he had missed their small team of enthusiastic goofballs. 

Picking up his pace a little, the brunette followed after the group, casting a glance to the benches as he made his way across the field. There was somebody sitting there he hadn’t noticed before. 

‘ _That’s strange._ ’ Marco’s eyes hung on the stranger for a moment longer, before quickly falling in stride with Reiner and Bertholt. ‘ _People don't usually watch tour practices. Especially the first one of the season…’_

“How about you Marco?” Bertholt’s voice interrupted his thoughts, pulling his attention back to the pair now looking at him curiously.

“Sorry, what?” Marco let out an apologetic laugh as the duo exchanged glances.

“How was your summer?” The tall brunette asked again, looking a little self conscious as he repeated himself. Bert was one of those guys who rarely spoke at the best of times. The most Marco had ever heard him say in one go was a feeble sandwich order at Subway. Luckily for him, the stocky blonde by his side, Reiner, seemed to make up for any lack of personality on the brunette’s end. Given that the two were rarely ever seen apart, Bertholt’s silence tended to go unregarded by the rest of the group. 

“It was good.” Marco replied with a smile, glancing, once more to the figure seated casually on the benches as the group drew nearer. “How about yours Bert?”

Exchanging glances, Reiner answered for him. “It was go-o-od” Drawing out the O a little longer than necessary. 

There was a little hiss as Bertholt elbowed him in the ribs.

Marco’s attention was still on the stranger at the end of the field, completely missing the exchange as Bertholt struggled to redeem himself.

Shifting forward, the person stood up and slowly began approaching the group. Marco couldn’t stop watching them. Something about their cool disposition seemed almost overwhelmingly entrancing.

 

It had been a few months since any of them had practiced, admittedly, the majority of summer break was spent lounging around outside or indoors on the computer, depending on the person. “Well, I guess the first order of business is to welcome you all back.” Erwin started, once the final stragglers had joined their group around the benches. “I’m going to assume you all spent summer sitting around doing nothing.”  
The entire team seemed to shift uncomfortably at his statement, alluding to a resounding ‘yes.’

Letting out a short laugh, the blonde scratched the back of his head and cast his eyes around at their group. “In any case, don’t expect me to go any easier on you guys this season. Just because we managed a pretty decent second place in the finals last year doesn’t mean I’m just going to let you coast the rest of your high school careers.”

This earned another murmur of laugher, rippling throughout the team as they proudly regarded their victory the previous year. 

Trost High’s baseball team had managed to somehow pull themselves up from virtually nonexistent in the league to second place in the entire span of one season. Although it came as a shock to virtually every school in the competition, the unexpected players had Erwin to thank for their sudden rise to power. The new English-teacher-turned-baseball-coach had them practicing nearly every day, causing the group to rapidly improve and pull ahead almost instantly at the start of their season. If anything, it was their mentor’s drive and motivation that kept the team pulling. The guy seemed more enthusiastic about Baseball then he did his own lengthly novel studies classes.

“Okay, so then aside from the sentimental bullshit, why are we here? Tryouts don’t ever start until February, and it’s fucking September.” A loud voice broke through the crowd, belonging to Eren Jaeger, the team’s star batter. As great as the guy was at hitting baseballs, his attempts at subtlety left a lot to be desired.

A quiet “Eren!” Was heard, quickly following the other’s irreverent statement as the small blonde on his left gave their coach an apologetic glance.

Erwin’s smile grew as he listened to the group’s mutter of assent at their seemingly pointless first meeting. “I wanted to make sure you were all still coming back for the year.” The man took a step backwards, his eyes flicking to the benches as he motioned vaguely with a small wave. “I also wanted to introduce you guys to a new student of ours who will be joining the team come spring. 

All eyes shifted to the stranger who had now drawn close enough to the group that Marco could make out his sharp features. 

The guy was pretty average height, sporting a roughly cut mop of light brown hair that tapered into a darker undercut at the sides. His legs were long and lean, clad in dark washed jeans that fit maybe a little too well as Marco noted the slender line of his legs, and the way the jeans seemed to casually hang off of his hips under the faded denim. If Marco had to admit it, he was beginning to feel a little breathless. Hands stuffed in the pockets of his hoodie, the newcomer gave the group a short nod. His face was long and slender, like the rest of him. Tawny eyes pierced through the group, catching the evening light that made them stand out even more in contrast with his pale skin. The boy’s mouth was pulled into a thin line and, to be honest, he looked a little hostile. As the stranger stalked his last few paces to the group, Erwin stepped aside to make room. 

“This is Jean. He played at his old school’s baseball team and is apparently a pretty good pitcher.” Smiling, he gave Jean a hearty thump on the back, causing the teen to stumble under the impact, the boy’s eyes widening in momentary surprise. “Had him in my English class. We got talking and turns out he needs a friend or two. So make this guy feel welcome, okay?”

Jean’s eyes widened in horror as Erwin’s last words slipped past his lips, and he spun sharply to glare in bewildered incredulity at the teacher’s statement. Erwin had apparently held their meeting solely with the intent of making Jean some friends.

Laughing boisterously, Reiner reached over and gave Jean’s shoulder a squeeze “Well whatever the case, welcome to the team man.” He then, also, gave the guy a hearty pat on the back and retreated his hand, brushing it lightly against Bertholt’s as it fell at his side. 

Marco glanced between the two for a moment, noting the way the blonde shifted slightly, closing the space between them as the pair’s eyes met. 

What?

A loud clap shifted everyone’s attention back to Erwin and the teacher regarded them with a smile. “So how about a quick game before you all head off for the night?”  

“YEAH!” Came an enthusiastic response from the back, Sasha and Connie were fist bumping energetically.

“That’s the spirit!” Their coach grinned ardently and began separating them into teams.

 

 

“Just go talk to him you dork.” 

They were sitting out on a bleachers at lunch hour in a lame attempt at lying to themselves about the horrendous cold snap the weather had quickly adopted over the last few weeks. 

“Are you kidding me?” Marco huddled deeper into his coat, casting Mina an incredulous look as she sipped idly on her coffee. 

The girl let out a soft hum of amusement and watched as their group of friends barrelled around the field after each other. This was a tradition. For some reason nobody could explain, every year they would freeze themselves to death eating outside until the first snowfall. Unfortunately for them, it was already mid-November, and the lack of winter was evidently strong. If not for the freezing temperatures. The harsh chill obligingly threatened frost bite upon those that exposed themselves too long in the freezing wind. 

“I’d just make a total fool out of myself.” Marco complained as he watched Thomas barrel into Franz in a rather violent adaptation at freeze tag the group had coined over a year ago. “Besides it’s not even like we know each other all that well… I think we’ve spoken a grand total of three times?”  
Mina rolled her eyes dramatically “Oh come ON Marco. You know his friends, that’s an automatic in! Half of them are your teammates for  a good portion of the year. Don’t go whining about not fitting in.”

Marco scoffed “Are you kidding me? They’re great, but it’s not like we hang out casually. That’s something completely different.” 

The little brunette took another sip of her rapidly cooling coffee and let out a sigh, her breath forming little clouds in the air. “You’ve been to parties before. That counts as casually.”

“Not the same thing.”

“Well the longer you stare, the creepier it gets. So you either talk to him now, or risk being that guy that stalks the new kid.” At that she cast him an apologetic smile.

“Wha- nobody calls me that!” Marco stammered, feeling his face flush against the cold breeze.

“you’d be surprised.”  
Marco blushed brightly, attempting to hide his embarrassment behind the collar of his jacket. “You’re kidding, right? And it’s not like I stalk him… We just happen to have a lot of classes near each other… Do people really call me that?!” 

Mina let out a quiet little hum, indicating that she was done with the conversation, and placed her now empty cup on the bleachers. “I’ll see you Marco.” throwing him a little smile, she hopped down the steel platforms, giving the others a quick wave before running back to the school, retreating into the warmth that was well maintained central heating. 

Groaning, Marco hid his head in his arms, hunched over as he replayed that last couple months of awkward pining in his head.

 

It had been fine at first. After Erwin introduced Jean to the team things seemed mostly normal. The two had exchanged a few words between innings, but nothing more. He had already, evidently, been quickly swept up in the personality shit storm that was Reiner Braun to bother with Marco’s meek one words answers. 

For the most part, this didn’t bother him at all, Marco watched with unattached curiosity at most. It wasn’t really because he necessarily liked the guy or anything. Sure, he was actually really attractive, Marco could have stated that from day one. It was more of a lingering interest in the fact that Trost even had a new student to begin with.

 Their last transfer student came about 4 years ago, a girl from Japan who moved in with Eren’s family. Apparently she liked Trost so much that she never did bother going back home. The two had been glued to the hip ever since. 

For at least a solid three weeks Marco remained anonymous, happy to continue his stance as casual-friend-to-most-everybody. That was the way things had always been, and he honestly didn’t mind being that person. It gave him a rather flexible amount of freedom when it came to group interactions. He was always happily welcomed, but never really missed. His situation made it a lot easier to float in and out between social gatherings without ever leaving much other than a good impression. 

it was only after about a month of impartial observance that Marco realized he had slowly begun falling for the guy. It may have been that stupid way he laughed, or the curve of his neck, or whenever he reached up to rake his long fingers through his permanently dishevelled hair that did it. Or the way he tried to hide the fact that, honestly, he was a massive dork. Or how he scowled over the smallest inconvenience. Maybe it was his almost brutal, at times, honesty. But soon Marco found himself coveting the stupid way he smiled. That lopsided smirk of his kind of drove Marco crazy, to the point where crossing the room and kissing it off of his face was a potentially realistic option. As much as Marco didn’t want to admit it, he had it bad. The worst part was that, he was pretty sure most of the school knew about it. He was just thankful that they all kept it quiet. The last thing he needed was for Jean to find out. 

 

“Hey Marco!” A voice abruptly cut through his reverie as the brunette startled, sitting up quickly in surprise. A familiar hand thumped him on the back and Marco knew, with muted discomfort it had been Reiner calling his name. 

“Hey’s what’s up?” Turning his gaze upwards, he was met with an enthusiastic smile. 

He was standing over him, slightly a little too close for comfort, grinning down smugly and rubbing his nose in attempt to stave off the icy wind. “You look miserable and cold.” The blonde lamented gruffly, sitting down rather delicately for somebody of his stature.

Marco shrugged, casting a glance towards the field. He could make out five figures trekking across the frozen earth towards them. “Cold, mostly. Did you need something?”

Pulling an expression of mock offence, the blonde rubbed his bare hands together, shivering dramatically. Everything was exaggerated when it came to Reiner. “Haven’t seen you in a while. Thought I’d make my rounds.” He said, huddling into his blue letterman and throwing Marco a warm smile. “Figured you missed me.”  
Marco laughed, rolling his eyes as the blonde chuckled. “Guess I’ve been busy. Sorry. Did I miss anything Earth shattering?”

Reiner paused for a moment, seemingly deep in thought before he spoke again. “Sasha and Connie are dating.”

Marco rolled his eyes. “Finally.” 

“Annie punched a guy in the face.”  
“How is that news?”  
“He’s in the hospital.”

“Wow, that’s a first. But to be honest, I’m not surprised.”

“Sasha ate an entire flat of tomatoes on a dare.”  
“… Did she get sick?”

“She puked in a guitar case.”

“Gross! Who’s was it?”

“Jean’s”

“Oh..” Marco felt his heart do a little flutter thing. He played guitar too… Was there anything at all that would make him less perfect?

“Bert and I spray painted that animal testing facility over on Rose.”  
“Oh my gosh Reiner! You’ve got to stop doing things like that… Did you get caught?”

Reiner scoffed “Like i’d ever let that happen. Not with Bertl around, at least.”

“Make sure you always bring him with you then.”

“Jean’s single.”  
Marco froze. He felt as if somebody had just dumped icy water down the back of his shirt. Slowly turning his gaze to the other, Marco found himself face to face with the biggest shit-eating grin he had ever had the pleasure of seeing, grace Reiner’s stupid face. And that was saying something. “Wh- Okay…” Marco stammered, rigidly forcing his eyes to look at something else.

“And he keeps whining about being single…”  
Marco couldn’t do anything except nod. He felt numb. If Reiner knew, that meant Jean probably did too. Knowledge through association or something like that… 

“Marco! Hey! We were wondering where Reiner got off to!” Connie was climbing the stairs now, followed closely by Sasha, Bertholt, Annie, and Jean. 

Marco’s eyes stuck to Jean as soon as he raised his gaze to take the group in, lingering on the light clouds of his breath as he scaled the steps following closely behind Annie. 

“Uh, hey.” Marco felt his mouth form into somewhat of a smile as the group settled on the bleachers around them. 

“So, dude, you’ve gotta tell me what you think of this idea I had-“ Turning to Reiner, Connie began energetically describing the ways in which he he would destroy his skateboard come springtime. 

Bertholt gave Marco an apologetic smile,seating himself on Reiner’s other side and discreetly (or not) sliding his hand into the other boy’s pocket.

Annie was sitting a few meters away from the group, smoking idly as the conversation carried on. She exhaled, watching with mild interest and Connie went on to describe the process of mounting a mentos and coke powered engine onto his board.

Sasha was eating, nodding enthusiastically along with her friend-boyfriend? Making little humming noises whenever he said something she agreed with.

“-so then, if you take off the cap, it should shoot forward. It’s just a matter of finding the right amount to do it with.” 

Reiner was listening half heartedly, and he caught Marco’s eye, raising his eyebrows and subtly nodding towards Jean as Connie launched into another in depth explanation of his suicidal hobbies. 

Jean had placed himself down opposite Marco, sitting backwards in order the face the group, Connie prattling away on his left. He was leaning back on his arms, shoulders tensed against the biting cold. Marco could make out the slight tinge of pink across his cheeks and nose as he scowled into his hoodie. He didn’t look prepared to be out in the Winter at all. Shivering, he leaned forward, pulling his hands into his sleeves and shoving them deep within the pockets of his sweater. The look on his face was one of utter distaste, and Marco could tell that he really wasn’t enjoying their time in the icy wind. 

Something in the back of his head screamed to at least say something, as Marco sat there, quietly taking in the sight before him. If Jean hadn’t noticed his blatant staring already, he was pretty sure now would be that moment. Marco suddenly felt a sharp bump in his ribs, Reiner was nudging him with his elbow. Turning his attention to the large blonde, Reiner waggled his eyebrows and mouthed something unreadable, his eyes sparkling with unhindered mirth. It could have something to do with the fact that the cold air was making all of their faces rather numb by that point, but Marco didn’t bother to pursue the gesture. Casting his eyes downwards, where he didn’t have to bother with the awkward interaction that could potentially come out of talking to Jean, he shuffled his feet idly, trying to think of a reason to leave. 

“How long have you been out here? It’s way too cold to just sit like this.” 

Marco’s eyes flew up to the owner of the voice, eyebrows following suit as he found two tawny orbs staring directly at him. He felt like he was going to faint. “Uh, since lunch started, I guess.” He answered feebly, rubbing the back of his neck with a numb hand and glancing away again. “I guess I kind of got used to it…”

Answering with an incredulous scoff, Jean let out a short puff of air. “Are all of you American’s this crazy?”

“Maybe.” Kicking at the corrugated metal, Marco wondered just what it was that he did to make things like this so difficult. 

 

 

“TWO OUTS!!” Eren’s voice rang through the field at an overwhelmingly loud volume. Momentarily drowning out the sound of any and all wildlife in the nearby area and probably disturbing a few local homeowners in the process. 

“Do you gotta yell so loud Jager?” Came a haughty response, as Jean stood contemptuously on the pitcher’s mound, his french accent lightly lilting at each word as it left his mouth. 

“Shut the hell up Kirschtein!” Was Eren’s eloquent response as he kicked at the dry earth and hucked his bat at the other.

“You arrogant little-“

Two months into practice and the two still couldn’t keep from nearly beating each other up at the end of each inning. 

“I would really appreciate it if you two would just keep playing.” Came Erwin’s exasperated reply from the batting cage. Watching as the two boys attempted to destroy each other by throwing any and all portable objects in the area at the other’s direction. 

“Wow, that freshman can really throw…” Marco speculated lightly, watching with mild interest as the two continued their screaming match, having given up on the other’s imminent bodily harm. They were now yelling obscenities across the bases at one another, Jean, in French, Eren, in English.

“I heard he’s from France or something…” Bertholt’s quiet voice carried over the screaming as he approached Marco, helping him pack away some loose equipment from the day’s practice. 

“Well that would explain the French.”  
Bertholt flushed in embarrassment and lowered his gaze, quickly throwing the last glove in the bin Marco had been holding.

“I didn’t even know that they played baseball in France.” The freckled brunette speculated, attention wandering back to the cussing pitcher on the mound fiery gaze directed at Eren, now being held back by a desperately struggling Connie. 

Shrugging indifferently, Bertholt lingered by his side, seemingly lost without Reiner to follow around. The blonde had been sick for the last three days, and as a result, this left Bertholt alone and sweaty to deal with his increasingly apparent separation anxiety. “I guess they do…” He trailed off, his sentence ending in what sounded more like an open ended question than a statement.

Marco turned on his heels, and headed to their school’s storage room. Listening to his feet squelch in the slowly thawing mud as he walked gave Marco a sense of the slowly brightening days. The temperature was rising steadily and, thankfully, it looked as if they were in for a warm spring. Unfortunately, for Marco, it seemed as if his infatuation had also hit full power over the following months. Maybe it was the weather, maybe it was just unlucky hormones. The brunette had found himself increasingly distracted by pretty much any and all things regarding that outrageously attractive transfer student. It was becoming a problem Marco was not all that keen to deal with. It felt, to Marco, like every walking moment was spent thinking about the younger freshman, and, as much as he didn’t want to admit it, his crush was probably beginning to verge on alarmingly creepy. His only condolence being that at least he didn’t stalk the guy. Mostly…

Heaving a sigh, Marco nudged the store room door open, quickly depositing the box of equipment in the musty wooden shed. The room was dark, pale grey light filtering through dingy windows bordering the walls and bleeding through half-rotted slats. Leaning back heavily against a stack of Styrofoam mats, Marco let out a wistful sigh. Spending the last three hours every evening watching Jean pitch was doing nothing for his current state. In fact, it was probably making things worse. The few times they had exchanged words, Marco found himself completely unable to form a coherent sentence, stuttering out whatever lame attempt at english he could muster given the situation. Allowing his eyes to drift shut, the brunette slid to the ground, pulling his knees close to his chest and letting out a low groan, face buried into his arms. Jean laughing, Jean scowling, Jean standing on the mound a smug smile pulled tight across his lips as he tosses the ball casually in the air, appraising his opponent with calm distain. What would it be like to kiss him? Run his hands through his hair… Hear his soft moans against his lips, feel his-

There was a sudden creak of the door’s hinges, jerking Marco, reluctantly, out of his fantasies and pulling him back to the present. Which was him, sitting in a dirty, dark store room, daydreaming about a guy he could never have. 

“Why are you sitting on the floor?” 

Marco’s eyes widened in horror as the realization hit him. It was Jean. Jean was the one standing in the doorway, eyes pinning Marco in place as his question hung in the air with the dust and murk.

Letting out a nervous laugh, Marco shook his head, words failing him momentarily as he tried to quell the screech of horrified emotions rippling through his being. He had just been fantasizing about Jean, about kissing and- 

“Are you alright?” The teen took a step forward, crouching to Marco’s eye level and raising an eyebrow in silent curiosity. 

“What? Uh yeah.” Marco stammered, his eyes flicking forward to meet Jean’s dark amber. They were really close… “I was just… uh.” He lowered his gaze again, attempting to collect himself. “Thinking.”

Jean furrowed his brows, not entirely believing Marco’s uneven answer. “Thinking? That’s all?” he scoffed, “You know you can do that outside and not in… here,” He motioned to the room vaguely with one hand. “…right?”

Laughing again, a little nerve creeping into his voice, Marco scratched the back of his neck and looked around the room. “I know. Guess I just liked the stillness, or something.”  
“Stillness..” Jean repeated softly, casting Marco a look he couldn’t quite decipher before looking across the room, where Marco’s gaze had fallen.

The two sat there for a few moments, staring at nothing in particular as the seconds ticked by, silence settling between them like a comfortable fog in the morning’s earliest hours. 

A short laugh rose from Jean after a while, cutting through the gloom once again and he shifted, settling beside Marco and leaning against the mats along side the brunette. “I guess I get what you mean.” His voice trailed off. 

Marco could feel the vibrations of the other’s voice run through him, humming in his ears and swirling in his chest. Closing his eyes, a small smile spread over his lips. ”Yeah. Sometimes the silence can be really nice.” Marco sighed thoughtfully, fighting all urges to slide sideways and gently rest his head against the other boy’s. “It’s easier to think… You know? Like, when everything seems to be spinning out of control. It helps to just slip away for a while. Work things out.” He felt a pair of eyes on him, but didn’t bother to look.

“Yeah.” Jean’s reply was quiet almost inaudible in the heavy ambiance.  
Marco heard him shift again, their legs momentarily brushing as Jean rearranged himself, settling a little further into the stiff mats beside the other. It felt like a jolt of electricity had just shot through Marco as their brief moment of contact broke. His breath hitched in his chest and he willed himself to calm down, his hammering heart doing nothing to remedy the situation. 

“…Is there anything you want to talk about?”

Marco’s eyes flew open as he took a moment to register the question, rather gruffly stated, but the sentiment was there. He hummed softly in reply, for some reason the darkness made it easier to talk. “I don’t know. There’s a lot… guess.”

Another hesitant pause, this time Marco could feel it in the way Jean fidgeted, slowly taking a breath, seemingly mulling over his next set of words. “Well I don’t mind, I guess. You know… If you want to-“ He coughed and ran a hand through his hair. “talk, or whatever.” Glancing at the other Jean took another slow breath. “I mean it’s not like we really know each other that well, but-“ His accent was growing thicker as he spoke, and Marco listened with muted amusement at the way Jean began rolling over his syllables, his vowels growing more pronounced as he continued. 

“Thanks.” Marco cut him off mid sentence, Jean snapping his mouth shut at the sound of his quiet voice. “Jean… Thanks.” The brunette turned his head to smile at the other. Feeling a warmth spread from his furiously beating heart. This was the longest the two had ever spoken. And for some reason, Marco mused with strangely collected clarity, that single conversation had probably meant more than any number of awkward exchanges ever would. 

 


	2. First Base

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two boys lay under the wide sky Introspective spring mornings collecting in the memories like sand in an hourglass.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow look! Chapter two happened! How the hell??  
> Anywho, enjoy, these stupid dorks.  
> [you can find me here if you want to yell at me for doing something wrong](http://jellyphish-sempai.tumblr.com/)   
> Or we could just talk! That would be cool too!

There wasn’t anything particularly special about this day. It had started out normal, as any other. Walking to school, through the brisk morning air, Marco had noted the light frost had finally begun to thaw. The intricate lace patterns sprawling over each tiny leaf and blade of grass were turning into cool morning dew, beading on the surface and collecting to form small magnifying glasses that caught the early morning light. It looked as if the Earth itself had collected a billion clear glass balls, it’s spring green surface glittering as if it were covered in something other than the newly grown grass of spring. 

Marco took a deep breath, feeling his lungs expand as they filled to the brim with clear, cool, morning air. Waking up so early did have it’s advantages, the brunette thought, a little content hum escaping with his breath, no longer puffing out in thick clouds that rose to the blue expanse of ceiling stretching forever above his head. 

It was mornings like this, that made Marco think school was maybe good for something other than ogling the hot French exchange student from 8:00am to 7 in the afternoon.   
As he approached the school’s empty field, the bottom of his worn jeans collecting little drops of dew with each brisk stride, his eyes caught on a figure, _was he twirling?_

Changing course, Marco crossed the short expanse of green between the two in a few quick strides, settling a few metres away to watch with muted amusement. 

He had his arms out, head thrown back to the sky, his face resting in a smile, thrown towards the ocean of light wash blue and pink. Spinning, spinning, his feet were stepping over one another fluidly as his body turned in quick circles, tamping down the lush grass beneath his old converse before he collapsed on the ground. Eyes closed, a small smile still playing on his lips as his body fell into a meditative stillness. 

Marco watched as the boy’s chest rose and fell fluidly, soundless inhalations lingering in his lungs. He knew the feeling, oxygen swirling in his chest, those bright flashes you sometimes see when you stare at the sky too long, those clusters of untapped energy, filling you to the brim. Tiny sparkles of unhindered, unpolluted, pure vitality coursing through your veins. The feeling was surreal, it was bliss. 

“What are you doing Jean?” He couldn’t help it, he really couldn’t.

Watching as the teen suddenly jerked, eyes flying open as he flew to sitting, his damp sweater landing in a dishevelled mess on narrow shoulders.

“M-marco…” He suddenly looked sheepish, an expression Marco hadn’t yet seen the brash younger boy display. “Uh, hey..” Jean flushed, trying to hide it by ducking his head and rubbing the back of his neck. 

Marco felt a smile playing on his lips as he watched the freshman fidget, idly biding his time and drawing out Jean’s flustered embarrassment. “It’s pretty early, do you always come here at this time?” 

Jean furrowed his brow, blush fading to a manageable shade before lifting his gaze to the curious brunette. “Yeah. I do.” His tone had recovered from the initial shock, settling back into what Marco would describe as haughty indifference. 

Marco laughed, hearing his own soft voice effortlessly fly into the slowly wakening sky. “Why? School doesn’t start for another 2 hours.” Taking a few steps towards the boy, he gingerly dropped his backpack at his feet, sitting on the damp grass alongside the other. Marco cast a glance towards Jean, an eyebrow raised in silent inquisition.

There was a beat of considerate silence before the blonde spoke up, his tone verging on hesitant as the words carried past his lips. “I’ve been coming here for a while now. You know, we talked about it.” He turned his gaze to Marco, harsh amber eyes glowing with an underlying softness Marco wasn’t used to seeing from the boy. “Stillness…”

Marco felt his heart stutter in his chest as he watched those tawny eyes, staring right at him, pointedly. He felt his own eyes widen for a moment. “Stillness…” He licked his lips and turned away, gaze falling on an untouched patch of grass, still beading with morning’s subtle rain. 

A melodic call pierced the thin air, notes rising and falling with the slow thermals above their heads. 

S _tillness_

“So you come out here?” Returning his gaze to the other, his eyes falling on Jean’s impassive expression.

The blonde gave a short nod and a hum of conclusion. “I guess I like having some time to work things out, you know? I don’t know, I mean, whatever, but it’s not like I really have serious shit to deal with, but.” At this he gave a defeated shrug in surrender of his poor explanation. 

Marco smirked, watching as the younger teen fell back on the grass, eyes flying to the stretch of blue once again. 

After a few seconds he fell back alongside the other, turning his head to examine Jean’s profile. The morning light made his sharp features seem softer in some way. His pointed nose and cheekbones were almost white washed in the bright beams that fell across the field. Marco opened his mouth to say something, considering his words before he spoke. “It doesn’t really matter though.”

Jean turned his head to watch the other boy, and Marco suddenly felt himself becoming increasingly self conscious under the other’s gaze, turning his head away quickly to gaze at the sky. He probably looked like an idiot.

“I mean, you don’t need to have problems to understand why silence can be so precious.” He licked his lips again, trying to collect his thoughts before forming them to words. “It’s important because of what it is. I mean, just because everything you worry about seems small in comparison to, I don’t know, someone with anorexia or depression, or some elephant on the streets in Thailand, doesn’t make it any less important.” He paused, listening to the silence, the slow, measured breaths from the boy at his side. “Because it’s your life, and it’s you who’s dealing with these things. There is no comparison, because it’s just you, not the world. Your experience is yours alone. And you don’t need to belittle it because someone 500 miles away is having a seizure… you know? Because you’re just as important as they are…” He felt embarrassed, so, so embarrassed, he was probably blushing, who says stuff like that anyway?

He heard a soft laugh rise out of the other boy. 

_Fuck, you should just never talk._

Marco felt his blush deepening as he wished so desperately to take back the words he had just spoken.  
“You think a lot, don’t you?” 

_What?_ Marco turned his head again, feeling his hair shift on the grass beneath his head. “Uh, I mean, I don’t think so… I mean I think a normal amount… I guess… like, probably about as much as the next guy.” He trailed off, unsure as to where their conversation was leading.

Jean let out another light laugh and it was quickly carried away by the soft wind playing over the field. He stuck his hands out in front of him, as if making to grab the wispy clouds the streaked in opalescent purples and pink beyond their bodies, his lean arms stretching upwards as he let out a long sigh. “Because you’re just as important as they are…” He trailed off, having quoted Marco’s words with a thoughtful hum. 

“Why, you don’t think it’s true?”

Another short laugh. “I’m not arguing your statement, no. But what makes you think everyone is the same?”  
Marco gave a huff and rolled onto his side to face Jean, propping his head up with his hand, elbow resting firmly on the damp grass. “Because you’re you. You’re someone who exists, and even if you don’t want to, you will leave an impact in the world. You may not notice it, but there will always be things you leave behind, impressions you will leave on people. Maybe one day you’ll fall going up the stairs, and the person who helps you will have slowed down just enough to cross the street 2 seconds later than they would have. And your fall would be saving them from getting hit by this car that wasn’t looking when they drove past the stop sign. You’re existence makes an impact, whether you ever notice it or not.” 

He watched Jean consider this for a moment, he was chewing on his bottom lip thoughtfully, the curve of his jaw more prominent than usual, hands now thrown behind his head casually as he listened.  
Marco’s attention wandered, taking in the sight of the boy laying, sprawled on the grass beside him. At the beginning of the year he had never even planned on speaking to Jean. Yet here he was, for some reason. Alone, only the two of them on this broad expanse of green, his thoughts pouring out like some unstoppable waterfall as Jean patiently listened. 

God, What Marco would do just to plant a billion kisses on those lips. He felt his stomach drop at the thought, reminding himself, with some hesitant reassurance, that the other boy had no idea what was going on behind his words, carefully spoken. 

He was probably a good kisser too…

“Fair enough.” Came Jean’s reply, after a few beats of silence. “So does that give me free reign to bitch and moan at you from now on?” He was grinning, a self satisfied smirk spreading across is thin lips. 

Marco laughed as Jean punched him in the shoulder, jostling the older boy. “Sure, I don’t mind.”

After a few moments of frenzied back and forth, the two settled into a serene silence. Both boys laying on their backs,  eyes directed upwards as they exchanged occasional sporadic thoughts and observations about anything their swirling minds touched on.

“You know, you can come here whenever you want…”

Marco blinked in surprise, consciously making an effort to keep his gaze pinned skywards. “Like, here, you mean?”  
“Yeah. In the mornings… if you want.” Jean’s voice sounded hesitant.

“Don’t you come here to be alone?” Marco wondered lightly, unsure as to where Jean was going with this.

There was a quiet hum of assent before he opened his mouth again. “It’s okay if it’s you.”

Marco was blushing again, much to his embarrassment. He tried to control his response, holding it back long enough not to sound too eager, holding himself back from screaming “yes” to the heavens in a wild flurry of motions that would send any nearby wildlife scurrying in the other direction. 

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

 

 

It had been a long practice. Watching with trepidation as the team finished their final series of hitting rotations. Marco kicked at his cleat with finality, knocking away some caked on mud from earlier that day. 

Connie was shouting something incoherent as he swung at his last ball, twisting inhumanely as his bat knocked off of the soft sphere, sending it soaring, arching through the air, straight into Reiner’s outstretches hands.

“Oh what the fuck?!” came Connie’e exasperated reply, as he tossed the bat haphazardly to the dirt, sending a little cloud of red dust into the air as it hit the ground with a metallic clank. 

“I told you I’d catch all of them!” Reiner called back smugly, a wide grin set across his features as he quickly paced across the diamond, drawing up to the frustrated teen. Reiner gave him a rough pat on the back, causing Connie to pitch forward a little unsteadily, earning a round of laughter from the rest of the team. 

“Get the fuck in here now so we can go home.” An angry voice cut through the laughter, silencing the team as head’s snapped around to meet the little owner. 

Assistant coach Levi stood beside the coach’s box, glowering at the group of teenagers as if they were a pack of wild animals. His arms were crossed as he leaned against the wooden shelter, his fierce scowl making the little man seem that much larger.   
Erwin had been bogged down with thesis studies that entire week, thus leaving practice in the capable fists of their assistant coach, Levi. The small instructor never seemed happy to greet their team, today had been no exception. Throwing them into a gruelling practice of stretches, arm exercises, laps around the diamond, there was almost always a resounding groan of dismay from the group of teenagers when Levi was rumoured to be coaching practice that day. 

His place in the faculty as the resident hard ass earned them no favours, as it was a reputation the dark haired man seemed more then happy to obligingly fill. 

Levi taught history during school hours, regaling his students with the horrifying and, at most times, emotionally scarring events of the past. It wasn’t unusual to see a mass of disheartened teenagers leaving his classroom at the end of each period. Each student, having lost a little more faith in humanity being at least halfway decent by the end of a lecture. 

Marco wondered if it was something Levi did on purpose, or if his temperament was a result of having taught the history of mankind for far too long. 

He recalled, with slight horror, the project he had to present during his freshman year. Levi had opted for a more dramatic method of grading mid terms that semester, splitting his students into groups and having them preform a selected piece of work based off of a series of specific events pertaining to their studies that year. in graphic detail. His group had been saddled with the Batak Massacre, complete with brutal beheadings and gory impalements.   
“-robably use that pudding leftover from lunch.”

Falling in beside Reiner, Marco caught the end of a hushed conversation between himself and the lanky boy to his right, Bertholt. He cast the pair a wary glance before returning his attention to their short coach.

Levi was winding the practice down with a few curt words of harassment, as usual, his sharp eyes pinning each player in place as he made his rounds, gaze flitting from one to the next in sporadic movements. 

“-so get your asses home and rested. I don’t want to hear any complaints that you “didn’t have enough time” come tomorrow.” He was talking about homework.

Watching some of his other team members quake, Marco cast a glance upwards silently thanking his lucky stars that he didn’t have Levi as a teacher this year. 

“What are you waiting for. I said go!” And with that, he was gone, pacing quickly away from the diamond, clip board tucked neatly under his arm.

The team let out a resounding sigh, everybody visibly relaxing as the menacing man drew further and further out of sight, back towards the red brick building. 

“Anyone interested in Subway?” Connie’s voice pealed through the group, idly winding down as they packed away their gear for the day. Bats, balls, and gloves being thrown carelessly into an old wooden crate.

“Fuck yeah!” Came Sasha’s obvious remark as the two exchanged a fist bump, making little explosion noises and they pulled back and away, jazz handing it out.

“I’m in.” Reiner piped up, throwing his loud voice across the group effortlessly, his statement speaking on behalf of both him and Bertholt.

“It’s not like I have anything else to do, sure.” The freckled girl to his left, Ymir, piped up, having drawn herself away from the conversation she was having with the team’s resident sweetheart, Krista. 

The small blonde gave a quick nod of assent, smiling brightly as her pigtails bobbed with her head. “Me too!”

“I’ve gotta get home.” Eren’s grumbled, tossing a worn glove in the box roughly and shoving his hands in the jacket he had thrown on moments before. “We’re supposed to be having this weird barbecue for my dad’s business.”

Mikasa placed a light hand on Eren’s shoulder and the two exchanged a glance, neither speaking a word. The dark haired girl released her grip and begun to wrap a red scarf around her neck. 

“Next time.” She explained, her comment addressing both Connie’s inquiry and Eren’s scowl with two short syllables. 

“Sure, whatever. You coming Armin?” 

The thin blonde standing beside Eren and Mikasa looked over at Connie, his large blue eyes resting questionably on the short teen. 

Connie raised an inquisitive eyebrow in response.

“Uh, probably not…” Armin replied with a polite smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “I said I would help Eren set up.”

“Fucking doctors get their kids to do all the work.” Eren grumbled, readjusting his jacket with a shrug. 

“Eren.” Armin warned. He cast Connie an apologetic nod before nudging his friends towards the parking lot. “We’ll see you guys tomorrow.” Came his call as they crossed onto short green grass and away from the group.

There was a scattered response of halfhearted bye’s from the team as the trio left. It wasn’t unusual for them to take off immediately after practice. 

Eren and Armin had been inseparable for years, meeting in elementary school over a tower of primary building blocks. Mikasa, joining their group a few years later when her transfer took effect. She had bonded with the pair almost seamlessly, quickly creating her own niche between the boys and settling rather comfortably as the group’s steady voice of reason. 

Connie gave a shrug and turned his attention to the team once again, eyes falling on Marco. “You coming dude?” 

Marco sighed, giving a little shrug as he tried to remember the seemingly endless piles of homework he had waiting for him on his desk at home. “Uh, I’ve got a lot of homework still left to do.” He replied apprehensively, his brown eyes casting their gaze down to the soft earth guiltily. He felt bad turning down invites with the team, rarely did he see the group outside of practice, but truth be told, he was really just looking forward to getting home, crawling under his blankets, and taking a nap. Levi’s training was gruelling and he wasn’t sure how Connie, or Sasha for that matter, could still muster up enough energy afterwards to suggest a dinner run.

“I’ll go.” Came a rough reply, Marco’s eyes flying up to see Jean, pacing the diamond towards the group. Apparently, in the time it had taken Eren to give his excuse and leave, Jean had crossed the field, equipment box nestled in his arms, entered the dingy storage shed full of musky mats and dusty medicine balls, and stashed their equipment away, returning before anybody even took notice of the teen’s absence. 

Connie grinned, throwing an arm around Jean with a laugh. “Yeah you are man, I wouldn’t have accepted no for an answer.” 

Jean just smirked tersely in response, his eyes flitting to meet Marco’s for a split second before returning to Connie’s exuberant laughter.

Marco gulped, Jean was going to be there… “I can probably go.” 

“Excellent!” Connie cheered, his enthusiasm growing with Marco’s quiet confirmation.

At that, he released Jean and ducked into the coach’s box to retrieve his and Sasha’s jackets.

 

 

So Marco found himself here, seated between an enthusiastically prattling Connie, and quiet Bertholt, across from the most beautiful boy in school now idly chewing noisily on a massive bite of sandwich. Okay, he had to admit, that was a little gross.

“So I basically told them that if they wanted it, they could order if from me.” Connie was talking about something, Marco noted, he probably should have been paying attention to. Instead he had found himself rather mildly transfixed by the boy in front of him. He watched the way Jean’s eyebrows quirked as Connie regaled them with his tale. Sasha was throwing in comments every few seconds, Reiner’s hearty bark of laughter acting as a sort of backtrack to the team’s spirited display.   
Jean’s eyes had been watching the pair, taking inhumanely large bites of his foot long, spicy buffalo wing sandwich, as they spoke. He would pick out the onions before each bite, and Marco briefly wondered why he even bothered to order them in the first place. Not that he minded, if gave more for Marco to look at. Watching his long fingers slowly pull out each individual onion slice with careful precision. Jean, cautiously placing them down on the sandwich wrapper before moving to take another monstrous bite. 

Was he seriously being turned on by cold onion slices?

Whatever. The heart wants what the heart wants… And apparently right now, that was watching Jean Kirschtein, best pitcher on Trost High’s baseball team, pull soggy onion rings, drenched in red hot sauce, out of his foot long buffalo chicken sub.  

Taking a bite of his own, minimally topped sandwich, Marco heaved a sigh, spilling from his lips noticeably louder than he had actually intended.

All eyes flew to him in an instant and Marco was left to sit there, stunned into silence, and maybe a hint of embarrassment. 

“What was that about dude?” Connie inquired, chewing on his own sandwich as he spoke, mouth full of lettuce and bread.

“What? What was what about?” Marco stumbled lamely, trying to pull himself back from the edge of utter humiliation. He had just been caught, sighing like a lovestruck school girl. The least he could do was hope that the object of his desires, and apparent sighs, had, hopefully, gone unnoticed by the curious team.

“That dramatic-” Connie propped his hand to his cheek, leaning heavily and lidding his lashes, fluttering them a few times as he let out a breathy sigh. “-thing you did.”

Marco paled. He didn’t actually look like that… did he?

“U-Uh, so-sorry, what?” 

“Oh you know.” Sasha beamed, smiling over the sandwich, held in a permanent state in front of her mouth as she ate away noisily. Swallowing a mouthful she swooned dramatically into Ymir, who begrudgingly caught her. Sasha, letting out a careening sigh of her own.

The two sputtered into laughter.

Marco felt his face burning as he ducked his head, trying to avoid eye contact with everyone in the group.

“Seriously though, we all heard it.” Ymir deadpanned, her eyes fixing Marco in place as he squirmed uncomfortably in his seat. 

Marco let out a nervous laugh, running a hand through his hair, and licked his lips anxiously. “I wasn’t… I mean. Hah… Um… sorry?” His voice sounded strained, he felt like his head was going to explode. He needed to get out of there. Standing quickly, he threw his sandwich in a bag and took a step back. “I was just thinking there was something I had to do.” 

He cast a gaze around the team, all watching him with equally curious expressions fitted in place. “Sorry guys.” Ducking his head, Marco quickly made for the door. Tossing the last of his food in the bin as he passed. He exited the restaurant, turning abruptly and speed walking down the slowly thawing street. Marco’s heart was thrumming in his chest, pounding on his ribcage like a metronome set to full speed.   
The brunette stopped after a few moments, drawing in a deep breath, urging himself to calm down. It wasn’t like he said anything. And it didn’t seem to him, like anybody noticed exactly _who_ he had been staring at the whole time anyways. His mind flashed back to the image of Jean, looking at him just as curiously as the rest of their teammates. No. He couldn’t have known.

Marco placed a hand to his chest, letting out a slow breath and allowing his eyes to flutter closed. It was fine, nobody knew. Jean didn’t know. It was fine.

“Hey.”

A voice cut through his concentration.

Marco Jerked his head up at the sound, eyes flying open to meet a pair of glowing amber staring back at him. 

“J-Jean!” Marco was beginning to feel his heart rate pick up again as he took in the sight of the wiry teen before him, staring brazenly as he leaned against the rough wooden siding of an old building. 

Jean quirked an eyebrow inquisitively, his own gaze resting on Marco’s hand, still pressed against his heart. “Something wrong?”

Marco glanced down, following the boy’s stare and quickly jerked his hand away from his chest. “Uh, no. I mean… not really…” He laughed, his eyes downcast, as he realised he probably wasn’t making a very convincing argument. Marco shrugged with a soft hum, unsure of what to say to the other with his heart beating in his chest that loudly.

_I like you._

_I think I want to be with you._

_Sometimes i think of kissing you and it makes me feel like a kid again._

Jean jerked his head to the side, stepping away from the wood slats and motioning for him to follow.   
Marco fell in step beside the other boy, shoving his hands into the pockets of his hoodie and glancing curiously at Jean.

The two had spent almost every morning together since that day,  one week stretching into three in virtually the blink of an eye. Marco found himself actually looking forwards to early mornings because of it. 

Laying under the stretch of blue sky in that empty field. 

They never talked about anything important, just stupid things like video games, and what they had for breakfast. Sometimes Jean would bring a baseball from home and they’d toss it back and forth, taking turns to try and think up stupid nicknames for Reiner, or definitions for words that didn’t exist. 

“So… you left pretty quickly for someone who says there’s nothing wrong” Jean pressed, breaking the silence they had quickly fallen into.

Marco sighed and ran a hand through his hair, feeling the dark strands fall back into place as his had fell down at his side. “Yeah… I was spacing out. I didn’t mean to freak out like that. I just kinda-” He trailed off with a half hearted shrug, glancing at the other boy, who’s eyes had fallen on him.

_Had he been staring?_

Jean let out a low hum, returning his gaze forward, turning a corner, Marco following close behind. “So you’re saying nothing’s wrong then?”  
“Nope, nothing.” A short laugh escaped him as Marco tried his best to focus on something other then Jean’s ass. 

_oh_

They had come back to the field. 

Marco’s eyes took in the dim evening light as it spilled over the grass, long shadows casting paths across the textured lawn. It looked different in the evening, somehow. 

Jean kept walking, Marco close behind as they neared the old wooden storage shed.

“Uh Jean… what are we doing here?” Marco questioned, his words falling off the other boy’s back as he fiddled with the combination lock on the door.

No answer.

After a few moments of silence, the only sound coming from the scrolling numbers in Jean’s palm, he snapped out a little curse, tugging sharply on the metal clasp. “ _Merde._ ” The door rattled on it’s hinges, helplessly shut.

Marco smiled and reached across the other boy, taking the lock in his hand and nudging him lightly to move over. 

Jean obligingly shifted, allowing Marco step closer, their shoulders brushing, Marco’s fingers turning the blue dial slowly.

Click-click-click-click.

“What do you want from here anyways?” Marco wondered, his brown eyes still fixed on the little lock in his palm.

“Mmm.”

“What?”

“Nothing.”  
“… as in you didn’t want anything?”

Marco turned his head to the side, regarding the other boy with muted confusion as his fingers paused on the dial, momentarily forgotten. 

Jean was watching him, shoulder propped against the old wooden shed, his head tilted coyly to the side. Amber eyes staring at him as if issuing a challenge.   
Marco felt his stomach leap int to his throat. 

_Why was he staring at him like that?_

_Why were they still standing so close together?_

Marco gulped, licking his lips nervously, the action, causing the other boy’s eyes to flicker down to his mouth. 

“Jean?” The name felt more like a breath on his lips than any real solid words, coming out in an airy sort of whisper and catching in the small space between them. 

“Marco.” Jean hummed, his eyes still hadn’t returned to looking at Marco’s face. 

Slowly, he leaned forwards.

Marco moved without thinking, copying his movements, filling the gap, their lips brushing together in a painfully sweet kiss.

Pulling away only slightly, Marco let out a soft sigh, eyes fluttering open once again to meet Jean’s. 

They were so close, noses brushing. 

Marco could feel Jean’s fringe against his forehead, breathing the remnants of each other’s discarded breaths. 

Meeting each other’s eyes, amber burning into dark umber, they moved again. This time, their motions more hurried as they closed the space, filling it with each others hot breaths and keening gasps.

Marco’s hands fell from the lock, long forgotten as they stepped closer to one another, his hands  slipping comfortably to Jean’s face, fingers brushing the short hair behind his ears as they traced his jawline, coming to rest sprawled around his neck, tipping the other boy’s chin back. 

At some point, Jean’s arms had looped themselves around his shoulder, resting comfortably as he leaned into the searing kiss. 

Jean, stepped forwards, backing Marco up against the shed, the taller boy slipping only slightly down it’s wall so that their faces were parallel to one another, kissing fervently between muffled gasps and stolen breaths.

“Hnmm- Jean”  
“Ssh”

Jean kissed him hard, stealing the breath from his lungs before pulling back and trailing short pecks down the side of his face, stopping to nibble at the shell his ear.

Marco bit back a moan as he steadied himself against the wall, head falling back, hands balling into fists in the loose fabric of Jean’s hoodie. 

_Was this really happening?_

“Wha- re- nhm”  
“Ssh.”  
Marco felt a warm tongue swipe across the roof of his mouth, drawing out a breathy gasp, his eyes fluttering shut again as he returned the kiss, hands twining in Jean’s unkempt hair.

It felt like only seconds and they were pulling back again, breathing hard, eyes glued to one another as they tried to slow their hearts from beating out of their chests.

“You…” Marco gulped, having only managed to piece together a single syllable pronoun as he stared at the boy, still hopelessly close to his face.

Jean licked his lips and steadied his breath, nodding only slightly and managing a breathless “Yeah…”


End file.
